


The Redeemed

by EveryDayArtist



Category: Kuroshitsuji : The Most Beautiful DEATH in the World - Iwasaki/Mori/Mari, Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Musical Kuroshitsuji: -The Most Beautiful DEATH in The World- Sen no Tamashii to Ochita Shinigami, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Psychologists & Psychiatrists, Rehabilitation, Therapy, What-If, male pronouns for grell
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-24
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-05-28 20:34:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6344197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EveryDayArtist/pseuds/EveryDayArtist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The events of The Most Beautiful DEATH in the World have rocked the members of the London Dispatch Society and will have long running repercussions. Feelings of betrayal, guilt and anger may stall the healing process but Shinigami are more than stubborn enough to push through.</p><p>EveryoneLives!AU but with realistic results.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

_**Redemption is not perfection. The redeemed must realize their imperfections.** _

_**~John Piper** _

* * *

 

William T. Spears gazed around his office with a sour look on his face. _How_ Sutcliff had managed to not only sneak into his office but also fill it with pointless red knick-knacks he would never know. If only the man could put half the concentration he placed on making William’s life a living hell into his _work_.

Sweeping some of the trinkets off his desk, he settled down and began to look over the day’s tasks. There was the usual amount of deaths for the season; most seemed to be related to illness as the weather turned dangerously wet and chilled at night. A few of the junior Reapers had evaluations later in the day that he would need to oversee and…

 _Ah, yes._  There was one of the newest graduates joining his division. He looked over the file: Alan Humphries, average student, higher grades in theoretical studies than physical but obviously a studious worker. He drummed his fingers on the desk thoughtfully. The new Reaper would need someone to help him transition and monitor his progress; a mentor of sorts.

“Oh, _Wi~ill_..!”

_For Death’s sake…_

Grell Sutcliff slammed into the room with the forcefulness of a hurricane. With a flourish, and a dramatic toss of his crimson hair, he struck a pose in front of his friend’s desk. “Well, _darling_? What do you think of the alterations I made to your dreary little office?”

“You have an hour to get this junk away from my sight before I put you on desk duty for the next three months.”

Ignoring his coworker’s wails of protest, William turned back to the file and began to mentally run through the Reapers in his division, searching for a suitable mentor. Grell peered over his shoulder with interest. “ _Oo_ , this the new kid? He’s a _cutie_ , not as handsome as my William, of course, but still. He could probably be a little more toned but-”

“His name is Humphries.” William stiffly pulled away. “If you find him so appealing then perhaps you’d enjoy mentoring the boy, during his probationary period.”

“Oh _no_.” The frosty look that the more flamboyant man gave him would have cowed anyone else. “You _know_ I don’t play well with others. I’ll never be a mentor. Never. That’s for old fogies, not ravishing young ladies like moi!”

William sighed. “I thought not. Did you need something from me, Sutcliff? Or is this just another attempt on your part to irritate me into an early grave?”

“Reapers don’t die, silly.”

“Figure of speech, you ponce. Well?”

“Ah, right,” Face sobering, Grell handed over a stack of files. “This is everything from the robbery last night; six dead, all on time. We left one alive because he stands to become a fantastic doctor and let’s face it, that city needs all the help it can get.”

William nodded, flipping through the seventh file to make sure everything was in order. “I’ll trust your judgment then, just be ready to defend yourselves on the point if need be.”

“Yes, yes…” Grell waved it off and lounged against the desk. “It wasn’t my idea anyway, it was Thomson’s. I think that there’s far too much paperwork involved in that sort of thing; better to just kill ‘em and move on.”

The red Reaper’s cavalier attitude was beginning to concern William; of course Reapers needed to be detached emotionally from the humans they killed, but to lose as much interest as Grell had over the last few years could lead to the man getting into serious trouble. It’s none of your business. Don’t get involved …

William eyed the file on the table and blinked, slowly nodding. “Right. Slingby then.”

“Eric. Seriously ?” Grell looked skeptical. “Not that I don’t like the man, but he’s not the easiest person to interact with. I should know...”

“It might help him to adapt more.” William said firmly. “Giving him this sort of responsibility could be what he needs to transition fully after the move. He needs to make more ties here than the women from receptions that hang around his desk.”

“ Oh, it’s not his fault. Man is very sexy.” Grell tipped his head to the side. “I take it the transfer wasn’t his choice.”

“…I believe there was some sort of incident in his old division.”

“Must have been a hell of an incident to send him to a completely different country.”

“Indeed.” William sent him a withering glance that actually repelled the other man. “And what did I tell you about cleaning out my office?”

Eric Slingby had been transferred from Edinburgh to London a year before and had not been happy about it. The man had been a Reaper for a long time now and was experienced and skilled in the field; however, his ‘people skills’ left much to be desired. It wasn’t that he was unlikable or confrontational, quite the opposite; he was much more likely to avoid a problem than meet it head on. But when backed into a corner, Eric’s first instinct tended to be to go for the throat and he’d not made a lot of friends back home because of it. It hadn’t bothered him, he preferred a small group of close friends anyway, but his superiors had had enough of it. And so he was dumped on the London Branch, adding to their ranks of problem cases.

William wasn’t sure what it was about London that attracted the hard-cases but it made life much more complicated than he liked. He stopped at the desk of the Scotsman and cocked an eyebrow at the busty brunette leaning over it to show off her cleavage. Eric was lounging in his chair, grinning good-naturedly and openly looking her up and down; as far as the opposite sex was concerned, Eric was a pro.

“I don’t believe that shirt is dress code appropriate.” William remarked, the young woman scowling and retreating under the supervisor’s hard stare. Eric grimaced and sighed. “Cheers, boss. An' it was goin’ sae well…”

“Eric Slingby, I have a task for you.” William handed over a file and stared him down calmly. “You’ll be aiding the newest recruit, show him the ropes as it were and make sure he adjusts accordingly.”

“Whoa, now! Hauld on!” Alarm shot over the older man’s face. “Ah ain’t sae good wi' rookies, ye better ge’ someone else tae help.”

William wasn’t moved. “I insist. He’ll be arriving any minute now. Please meet him in the lobby and show him to his desk.” He gestured to the one directly across the aisle from his own. “He’ll be helping you on your reaps for the time being as he adjusts. I trust you’ll cooperate with him fully.”

“Och, bloody ‘ell…”

Ignoring Eric’s obvious reluctance, William strode towards the break room to get his second cup of coffee of the day. Time to get to work.

Another day, another Grell induced headache.

Meanwhile downstairs…

To say that Alan Humphries was nervous would be not so much a gross understatement as an outright falsehood. Alan was seconds away from a nervous breakdown. He’d never expected to actually make it to Collections; it had been a pipe dream he’d indulged in while fully expecting to end up in Spectacles or Finances. The fact that he’d succeeded in becoming a part of one of the biggest and most efficient branches on the continent was both humbling and terrifying.

“ Oops , pardon me.”

Alan stumbled slightly as the man coming through the doorway interrupted his thoughts, pushing past him. He smiled blandly and moved further into the lobby, looking around the massive room in quiet awe. There was a commotion from near one of the elevators as a small knot of Reapers piled out, joking and clocking out after a long shift. Just behind them a tall, broad shouldered man strolled out slowly; dragging his feet. He held a file in front of him and glanced up from it periodically as he scanned the room with a disgruntled grimace; Alan realized he was looking for someone just as their eyes met and a light of recognition crossed the older man’s face. Near the stairs, Grell peered around a potted plant and grinned happily to himself; the oncoming collision between the rookie reaper and the stand-offish Scotsman was sure to be interesting, at the very least a lot more so than cleaning out William’s silly old office. Eric stalked towards Alan with a determined air and the smaller man swallowed unconsciously as he tried to smile politely.

“I’m here for my first day. My name’s Alan Humphries.”

“Eric Slingby.” The younger man blinked in surprise at the thick Scottish accent and Eric barreled on before the questions could start. “I’m yer mentor now 'at you're here, if yoo’ve any questions lit me ken an' I’ll be more ’n happy tae help.”

“…Wow.”

The blonde’s eyes narrowed. “Got somethin' tae say?”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

Eric was actually struck dumb for a moment as Alan shook his head and moved around him. Then he regained his momentum and scowled. “Look, I’m nae a ‘people person’, sae let’s jist git this over wi' an' nae attempt any o’ this ‘friendship’ bull. Y’git?”

“Alright Mr. Slingby, I’ll stay out of your way. Would you please show me where to place my things, sir?”

Blustering slightly, Eric showed Alan to the offices and pointed out the empty seat, followed by a gleeful Grell. The smaller Reaper put his belongings away efficiently and then turned to look up expectantly at his senior. Eric cleared his throat and crossed his arms. “Got yer scythe?”

“It’ll be shipped by tomorrow, sir.”

“Nane ay this ‘sir’ bull. It's jist Eric.”

“Yessir.”

“Whit did Ah jist say?” Eric snapped, beginning to feel even more flustered.

“Sorry, Mr. Eric.”

Deciding that was as good as he was gonna get, he moved on. “I’m nae scheduled fur any reaps the-day, sorry tae disappoint. But there’s plenty a’ paperwork sae ye can help me wi' 'at.” He grinned evilly.

Alan plastered on a smile and fumed inwardly at the condescending tone. “Happy to help… Sir.”

In his office William signed off on the last expense report and sighed in relief. Despite the unorthodox methods of his employees most of them were punctual in their paperwork and he was thankful for this. All save…

Grell was getting worse; it was the only way to put it. He’d never been interested in rules but now he was being openly disrespectful and disruptive. William found himself becoming more and more at the end of his rope.

There was a knock at the door and a man with a face full of scruff and a slight limp came in with an apologetic smile. “A’right sir, I have the week’s ledger an' me report on the incident today.”

“Thank you Thomson.” William accepted the file and ledger, eyeing him up and down. “How is the wound?”

The Reaper smiled ruefully. “Bett’r sir. Thank yee for askin'.” There had been an incident a week before involving a group of demons and his leg had been seriously wounded but he was on the mend and it didn’t seem to affect his work. “Mr. Humphries has arrived.”

William perked up and stood. “Well, then I best introduce myself.”

Upon leaving his office he nearly ran into Grell, who for once didn’t react to his presence. The redhead was gazing in awe at a scene in front of him and whispered. “They’re either going to kill each other or start making out on the floor, I can’t decide which.”

William looked at Thomson, who shrugged, and both men moved to join the flamboyant redhead. Eric and Alan sat at their respective seats, quietly doing their paperwork but their eyes were fixedly avoiding one another and the tension in the room could have been cut with a scythe. William sighed heavily, deciding this may have been a mistake, and moved to introduce himself to the new Reaper. Alan responded immediately by standing and shaking his hand. “Pleased to meet you, sir. I’m very glad to be here.”

Thomson stepped in with a good-natured wave. “I’m Fitzwilliam Thomson, but tuh avoid confusion when the boss is aroond everyone calls me Fitz. That’s Grell Sutcliff, if he hasn’t introduced himself yet.”

“A lady does not ‘introduce herself’. She waits to be introduced.” Grell smiled widely, sharp teeth gleaming. “You’re a cute one. A little too feminine for my taste but…”

“T-Thank you… Sir?”

William stepped in before the conversation could derail anymore. “As I’m sure he’s told you, Mr. Slingby will be available for any questions you have but you may also come to me or any of your other coworkers.”

“Yes, thank you sir.” He hesitated, looking over at where Eric was scowling down at his files. “Sir, is it necessary for me to be monitored?”

“Yes.” William was not up to humoring the strained feelings of his employees; they ought to be able to deal with it amongst themselves. “Good luck on your first day.”

Eric grinned with satisfaction that quickly vanished when Alan slammed down the large stack he’d been working on and stared levelly back at him. “I’m finished, Mr. Eric. May I step out for coffee?”

Eric looked at his own half-done stack and growled.

Once the younger man was out of sight, Grell threw himself upon Eric’s desk and cooed happily. “Isn’t he adorable ? I think he’s gonna fit in super well.”

“Ah ‘hink he needs a sharp kick in th' keks.”

“Pardon?”

“A thrashin’.”

“Oh really, darling.” Grell frowned. “You’re being a bit harsh. Sure the kid’s been a little bit mouthy but you probably deserved it. And he must be so nervous, first day in the most difficult part of the most difficult branch of the Division. Having you on his case first thing has to add to the stress.”

Eric really was a terrible liar; he looked down at his desk feeling a little guilty and frowned thoughtfully, his face an open book. All right, so he didn’t like the idea of teaching the kid; that wasn’t really his fault, anyone would feel uncomfortable if they arrived at a new job and someone pretty much said they didn’t want to work with them. …And he seemed smart so it wouldn’t be for long. He could just put up with this for a while until he was ready to be on his own. No fuss, no muss, no making friends.

Grell watched him with a knowing look. He was going to be completely whipped so fast.

“Slingby.” They both jumped at William’s voice and the dark haired man glared at them. “A last minute reaping’s just turned up. Take Humphries and evaluate his performance. He can borrow a spare scythe if he needs to. And as for you Sutcliff, what the HELL did I ask you to do earlier…?”

William glanced over at where Eric was explaining the situation to Alan, who placed his coffee on the nearest table and nodded enthusiastically as he followed the taller man. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all—

“Will?”

The Reaper looked up with a start, staring up at Grell for a moment in confusion, before he straightened his glasses and sat back in his seat. The redhead was looking at him with concern and he tried to cut him off before the comments could start. “Have you finished with your reports?”

“No, not yet-”

“I should have known. I’ll finish what you haven’t done-”

“Will. I think you need to go home.”

“There’s still a mountain of paperwork to be done and it seems the rest of you aren't interested in helping.” The man stood stiffly, grabbing his folders and starting for the hall. “We’ve got less than three hours before the hearing-”

“Will-”

“Grell.” He turned to glare at the redhead. “I am not in the mood to deal wi-”

But his friend plowed on. “Will, you need to rest. I know you love your reputation as an ice-cold bastard but you’re allowed to hurt. And I know this hurt you because I’m hurting a bit as well.” He sighed and looked to the ground. “I-we had to go against some of our own. It’s not a situation we should have to go through. You’re allowed to-”

“Sutcliff please _shut up_.”

Grell bristled and growled. “Well, fine then. Stay a heartless bastard.”

“Easy, Mr. Sutcliff.” Another reaper stepped in, grabbing his co-worker’s arm. “Calm down. Best not to anger the bossman, yeah?”

“I swear, I will hurt you if you don’t get out of my way.” Grell snapped. “It’s not fair that he gets to pretend he’s the only one not upset when…”

He trailed off and all three of the Reapers stood in silence for a moment. A majority of reapers may not have witnessed any of the recent events, but it was hard not to be affected while watching those who had. The younger reaper swallowed as he looked from one man to the other, wondering if there was possibly anything he could say that wouldn’t sound cliché or useless, when William’s control finally snapped. “I cannot help but be affected by this. I was their superior; I was in charge of them. One could argue that this all wouldn’t have happened if I had been more involved-”

“Boss, no.” The other man shook his head as Grell’s eyes widened.

“But that is no longer a concern as it’s happened. It’s done, now we have to move on and there is no point in fixating on what has happened.”

“But… Alan. And _Eric_.”

“We have to focus on-”

“On what happens next, right?” Grell’s voice was flat. “I have never been so disappointed in you, Will.”

“I cannot believe that you of all people would presume to lecture me about empathy and compassion-”

“ _William_!”

Both men turned in shock at the yell in time to catch sight of the two junior reapers hurrying towards them. Ronald Knox was stumbling at the rear, looking frazzled and half-asleep; his large eyes were full of worry and apology. In the front, Alan Humphries glared from under his sweat-soaked bangs, skinny chest bared by the half buttoned shirt and revealing the tight bandages wrapped tightly around his ribs. He stopped jerkily near his supervisor, eyes flashing dangerously.

“I need to speak to Eric. _NOW_.”


	2. Accusations

_**Life is complex. You don't have any person who is nice from the beginning until the end. You don't always have the notion of redemption. The bad people don't always pay.** _

_**~Marjane Satrapi** _

* * *

 

 

“Alan!” Grell hurried around to the younger Reaper’s side, grabbing one of his arms as their coworker ran off, no doubt to look for a doctor. “You shouldn’t be up!” Behind them, Ronald made an apologetic face and mouthed ‘I tried’ as he watched the older Reapers.

“Indeed, I find it hard to believe that you were released from the infirmary so early.” William pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and turned back to his office. “Please return to complete your-”

“He thinks I’m dead.”

Alan didn’t raise his voice, he never did, but the intent was clear. William stiffened. “Humphries, I insist you-”

“He thinks I’m _dead_?!”

“Lower your voice.” The older man snapped as Grell pulled on Alan’s sleeve nervously. “This is none of your concern any longer-”

“ _How dare you say that to me!_ ” Alan jerked away from Grell and shook violently as he got in the older man’s face. “How dare you think for one moment that this was a wise decision! Do you have any idea what he must be going through?!”

“You are in no position-”

“This will kill him!”

“By rights, he should be dead already.”

Alan froze at that and William felt guilt slice through him at the pain and dismay on the small man’s face. For a second it looked like he was going to crash to the carpeted floor but then the brunette regained his control and clenched his fists. “I don’t give a damn.”

“Yes. You’ve made that clear.” William snapped. “You’re lucky that The Board doesn’t realize just how damned stupid you’ve been about all this. As far as they’re aware, you were dragged into it against your will-”

“And you’re going to just let them think that and let Eric take the brunt of the blame?”

“Slingby _is_ responsible for this.” William was finding it harder and harder to meet his subordinate’s eyes, even as his anger mounted. “Knowledge of your involvement will not help his case.”

“I have to do something! I can’t just sit by and let this happen!”

“I don’t-”

“No, stop it!” Alan tried to break away but Ronald grabbed him by the arms, halting his progress. “You won’t listen, I have to--”

“ _Alan_.”

Coming from a junior who never referred to his seniors by first name, the quiet word had the effect of a scream. The older Reapers stared in shock as Ronald met Alan’s gaze, wide, bright eyes serious. “Alan, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay. I know that this has been hard, and you’re scared. I know you’ve been trying so hard to fix things on your own but you don’t have to now.” Squeezing his arms comfortingly, the younger man tried to get through to his friend. “You understand that, right? We want to help Mr. Slingby too. You’re not alone here. You did a good job, but you can rest now. Let us handle this.”

“But I-”

“Alan, no, it’s okay. You need to rest, how do you think that Mr. Slingby would feel if he knew that you were overexerting yourself?”

Alan stared at Ronald for a long moment in confusion before it slowly gave way to understanding and acceptance; then his eyes flickered shut and he sagged against the younger man. William sighed and nodded to where a few doctors were hurrying over, signaling them to help him back to the infirmary. One of them, a heavy-set, dark skinned woman sighed as she put a hand on the young man’s trembling shoulder. “You, Master Humphries, gave us quite a fright. You’re not meant to be up and about, luv, you know that.”

Alan slumped back into her hold, blinking blearily and shaking his head. "...I'm sorry Rosie."

He knew more than a few of the medical workers on a personal level after the many months of attacks and illness and Mrs. Rosie Fathers was by far his favorite. Rosie was a mothering sort, who had immediately been drawn to the vulnerable boy. Eric, well, he’d taken longer to get used to. She’d been put off at first by his standoffish nature and obvious skill with manipulating the younger women and had not wanted him anywhere near her new friend while he was so weak. But, while she was wary, she was also a woman who rewarded good behavior; and the fact of the matter was that Alan lit up when Eric came to visit him. And he was much quieter than that boisterous Mr. Sutcliff who tended to disrupt the entire infirmary with his visits.

"Oh, luv... Alan, you have to be more careful." Running a hand through the slight brunette’s hair, Rosie nodded to William. “I’ll take him back. We’ll give him a sedative t-”

“No, wait.” Alan struggled back into a standing position. “I’ll go in a little bit, but first I need to see him.” He pleaded with his boss. “Please, just let me show him I’m alright.”

~*~

Eric Slingby was pretty much convinced at this point that God hated him. Reapers were born from suicide, from wanting to die, as a sort of punishment; he knew this but it seemed unbelievably harsh for fate or God or whatever to have intervened again. He’d been more than ready to die, but surely it wasn’t the same thing when the blow was dealt by another person, a demon no less, so why the hell wasn’t he _dead_? Eric closed his eyes, and then immediately regretted it as the memories of earlier that night began to besiege his mind; the darkness behind his eyes gave way to blood, blood and Alan’s shocked eyes.

He hated himself. _Oh, Death, he hated himself_.

It wasn’t a feeling he was used to, hate was always a hard concept for someone as easy-going as him. But then came the Thorns and even if it was hate for a concept-a _thing_ , it was still hate; funny how both times he’d finally felt something so strongly it’d had to do with Alan. The Thorns and himself…

But that wasn’t his fault, oh Death, no. For some reason some part of his friend set off every damn emotional switch in him; it was unnerving and bizarre and fantastic. Eric smiled weakly as he thought of how quiet and uninteresting he’d thought his partner was in the beginning…

 

_“Clumsy thing.” Alan muttered. Eric looked over his shoulder and grinned at the sight of the rookie trying an experimental swing of his borrowed scythe. Catching the Scotsman’s gaze, he looked up and Eric grinned wider before swinging his own scythe with effortless grace. “…”_

_“Lighten up, laddie.” The blond chuckled. “It’s an easy reap t’day.”_

_“May I?” Taking the eagerly offered file, Alan looked over the report. “Charles Duram. Sixteen years old, lower class. Cause of death: blood loss and blunt force trauma…” His eyes squinted behind his glasses. “An accident?”_

_“I’d guess sae.” Eric agreed. “Sounds like th’ most likely reason.”_

_Alan nodded quietly._ Looking back that should have been a warning sign but at the time Eric had just thought that was his personality. It wasn’t until afterwards that he’d figured out Alan’s unusual weakness...

_“That’s that, then.” Eric wiped a bit of blood from his gloves as he wandered back to the younger man. “Mingin' way tae go, r’n over by horses… but bonnie good for yer first r—Humphries, are ye cryin'?”_

_Alan was slumped over on the back steps of the mark’s home, his family having already rushed to the scene of the accident and leaving it vacant. The young man blinked back tears and shook his head. “Of course not.”_

_“…Why bother lyin’ t’ me?”_

_Alan sniffed and smiled. “I suppose you’re right. It’s just he was so young this time. Imagine what he could have done with his life. I wish I could have warned him; just told him if you go this way on this day you’ll die… Foolish, I know but I can’t help it. He was so young and it must have been so, so frightening.”_

_Eric blinked, staring at the smaller man._

_“His garden is beautiful.” Alan murmured, managing a smile. “These are some of my favorite flowers, ericas just don’t grow well in our realm.”_

_“They’re called_ ericas _?”_

_Alan shared his amusement at the irony. “In the language of flowers they represent loneliness. They grow like humans… Born alone and dying the same; it’s the way of life.”_

_Eric was by no means an optimistic person, but the way Alan spoke made some part of him angry; he didn’t want him to talk like that. “What dae ye mean, alone? Look at all ay them! They might start it alone but they certainly don’t bide like 'at. Humans are th' same way, I’d reckon.”_

_Alan stared up at him with a stunned look, before smiling widely. Such a look of admiration directed at him made Eric slightly uncomfortable. “Anyway, we ooght t-”_

_“Oh!”_

_They both stared up at the sky as a strong burst of wind sent the flower petals spiraling into the breeze. They danced through the darkening light, gleaming. The younger man laughed in delight. “They’re like snowflakes!”_

_“Yes…”_

_Alan laughed, running a hand through his hair. “You’re right. I can’t dwell on things like this.” He turned and bowed politely. “Thank you, senior, for helping me with my first reap.”_

_Eric blustered, looking away. “_ _Th' hell dae ye ken sae much about flowers anyway?_ _”_

_The younger man flushed and stalked off. “I find the science of life fascinating and I didn’t go out much during my time at the academy so I did a lot of reading on the subject. I’ve heard everything you can come up with on the subject so just leave it alo-”_

_“Humphries, Humphries!” Eric soothed quickly, jogging to catch up to the smaller man. “_ _Ah didn’t mean anythin' by it, naethin' wrong wi' a healthy interest in somethin’._ _”_

_They walked in silence for a long while, not anxious to return to the office to work on paperwork. Alan looked up at him every few minutes, shyly looking away when he was caught; Eric found himself becoming more and more at home with the idea of being paired with someone else. After all, he’d been lucky enough to land a kid with some fire…_

 

Eric’s head jerked up as the door to his cell opened. It was a sterile room, with no window and a single cot in the corner. William slowly entered, eyeing his former co worker warily as the blonde turned away and instead focused on the opposite wall. William couldn’t help but think that it was due to shame, rather than anger but that may have been wishful thinking on his part; it was time to find out.

“Your trial is in an hour.” The brunette opened his planner and eyed the notice. “There are some who are calling for your death. But I believe that most of the Board feels that your work in the past makes-”

“Stop.”

William started at the command, looking up to see the other man standing shakily. Eric continued, “Whatever yer thinkin', don’t. Ah don’t want a deal. Ah don’t want forgiveness. Ah should die.”

“Slingby-”

“Jus’ let it end.” With that the other man turned away again.

William took a deep breath, snapped the file shut and gathered himself. “No.”

“No?”

Ignoring his subordinate's tone, he shook his head and began to pace slowly. “Granted, in the heat of the moment I might have called for it but after consideration I think that it would be unprofitable and hasty to deal such final judgement.”

“Unprofitable.” Eric smiled humorlessly. “Well, we wouldn’t want ‘at.”

“Sl- _Eric_. Why do you insist on fighting? I’m offering you a way out.”

The blonde threw his head back and laughed; a bitter and mocking sound that rubbed the other man the wrong way. “Ah don’t want a way out. Ah don’t want forgiveness. Ah j’st want it all tae end. I’ve nae reason tae go on.”

“That’s a lot of nonsense.” William snapped, starting to feel anger building up. “You have to at least try and take the chance to make things right.”

Eric shook his head, beginning to pace. “They’ll ne’er agree-”

“Sutcliff-”

“Grell killed barely a fraction ay the women Ah did-”

“For a fraction of the reason.” William insisted. “You didn’t enjoy the death of those women and children. You didn’t wish them dead, and you’d have no reason to do it again. You did it for Ala-”

“ _Don’t_.”

The raw agony in Eric’s voice stopped Will in his tracks. The blonde was wan, trembling and bone-weary; he was barely holding on, that much was obvious. It made Will a little perplexed, this idea of caring so much for a person; it seemed much simpler to do it his way and just live for the job. Eric’s feelings for his friend had led to all of this and were tearing him apart from the inside and Will couldn’t fathom how this could possibly be an equal trade; surely the pain outweighed anything else.

Granted this whole incident had confounded him from the start. Eric’s actions had been a gross overstep of the guidelines by which they all lived and Alan’s defection had been a shock. He couldn’t understand it and had in the end blamed the Scotsman for all of it; Alan was far too much of a model Reaper. Then he’d seen the look in Eric’s eyes after he awoke, the horror and pain and guilt that ate away at him, and Alan’s frantic pleading and Will found himself rethinking his position.

Eric slid down the wall to sit with his head in his hands, still trembling. “Och aye, Ah did it for A-Alan. An' Ah _failed_ , dae ye think ah dunnae know Ah failed?! Ah was tryin' tae save him an' Ah kill-- ” His accent, which had slowly softened over the years, came back full force in his desperation, the word choked him and a full body shudder ran through him. “J’st kill me. _Please_ …”

“Eric?”

Will let out a breath as the room stilled and Alan stepped through the door. He’d asked Alan to stay back until he had talked to Eric, but the younger man had obviously heard enough and had pushed past the guard to stumble into the room. His large eyes looked even wider on his pale face but for the first time since his revival he looked happy as he stared at his friend in obvious relief.

Eric however, paled violently and pushed back against the wall, shying away; his face was a mask of pain that settled into a terribly resigned sob. “Ye cannae hate me thi’ much…”

“No!” Alan fell forward, barely registering the pain from jarring his injuries. “Oh, no, Eric… I’m alive, I’m well, please… I’m no ghost, please believe me.” He choked back his own tears. “Eric…”

The older man stared at him, blank faced, before raising a trembling hand and cupping the smaller Reaper’s cheek. Alan smiled tearily, pressing into the contact, before taking the broad hand and placing it over his heart. “See? It’s alright.”

Eric made a sound like a wounded animal and fell into him, pressing his face against Alan’s chest and wrapping his arms around him like a child clinging to a mother. He sobbed, whispering apologies and incredulous questions against Alan’s shirt as the smaller man stroked a hand through his hair. Alan shook his head, closing his eyes. “Hush now, it’s alright. Calm down. Hush now…”

Will turned, uncomfortable with the emotion as he waited out the reunion. Alan smiled fondly at the sight as he continued to murmur soothingly and rested his forehead on the messy blonde hair. “Hush now, it’s alright… It’s alright.”

“I’m sae sorry. I’m sae sae sorry. Ah should ne’er have-I’m sae sorry.” Eric trembled, pulling back and hauling his friend into his arms, burying his face into his shoulder. “It was all mah fault. Ah should hae listened tae ye. Ah should hae-”

“Eric, no.” Alan winced as his wound was jostled. “Stop blaming yourself, it’s not going to do anything. It’s in the past.”

He clutched at him tighter. “Ah’m sorry fur everythin’, Ah was such a fool--”

“ _Eric._ ” Alan gasped and the older man drew back like he’d been burned, haunted eyes seeking out the bandages not hidden by his shirt. The spasm of pain and grief and guilt that engulfed the scotsman’s face made Alan’s heart break and he was quick to sooth Eric again. “Eric, please, you must forgive yourself. I’m alright. You saved me.”

The words were so loaded, so bizarre that they actually felt wrong on his tongue. He meant them, Alan meant them and believed them with all his heart but there was a strange metallic feeling in his mouth and a strange empty feeling in his chest as they came out. For not the first time since he awoke in the infirmary he felt confused and conflicted.

 

_He returned to consciousness in a much more subdued manner than anyone had expected; his breathing, which had been slow and shallow, hitched and his large eyes fluttered open gradually as he lay on the pristine hospital bed. Rosie looked up from where she’d been folding clean sheets and smiled in relief, her white teeth contrasting against her skin prettily. “Bless me, I had been worried about you! Don’t sit up, I don’t want you overexerting yourself.”_

_“What happened?” Trying to fight back surprise at how raw and scratchy his voice sounded, Alan gave up on the exertion of movement and allowed his head to fall back on his cool pillow. He shuddered, closing his eyes against the nausea that the soft lights of the lamps caused. “May I have some water?”_

_Rosie handed him a glass and sat down on the bed to help him take a few sips. She watched him closely. “Alan, luv, what do you remember? ...Of the incident with the demon?”_

_“De-”_ _Michaelis_ _, the Phantomhive boy,_ Eric _\-- “Where’s Eric? Rosie, where is-was he-” alive when they came and found Alan-did the demon kill him? He remembered his own death but what had happened afterwards?_

_The woman caught the panic brewing under the surface and placed a strong hand on his shoulder. “Luv, no, they brought ‘im in alive. He wasn’t hurt.”_

_But William had said-he was meant to die. “They haven’t, he is still...”_

_“The Board is meeting to decide, and until then he’s being held in solitary confinement. Mr. Spears is in charge.” Rosie knew the young man would be frantic and had asked to be kept in the loop. “Drink some more, luv.”_

_“I need to speak to someone.” Alan struggled to sit. “I need to speak to him, to find out.”_

_“Senior?” He looked up to see Ronald smiling down at him, shifting awkwardly in the doorway. “Thank heavens, I wasn’t sure you’d ever wake up.”_

_“Why did I?” Alan coughed, accepting the glass. “How am I still alive?”_

_“Heaven knows.” Rosie said briskly. “All we need know is that you are and be glad of it.”_

_“Agreed.” The young blonde sat down in the rickety chair next to the bed. “Damn, we thought we were too late when we found you. I mean, Mister Slingby was already half awake but you… You were so pale. Cold.” He shivered. “Couldn’t believe it when you started breathing.”_

_“Have you spoken to Eric?”_

_Rosie bustled off, allowing the men to talk and Ronald scratched his nose awkwardly. “Cripes, naw, no one has. They’ve put ‘im away and he’s not spoken to anyone.”_

_Alan nodded, looking down at his hands for a long moment. “He’s well?”_

_“Yes, little weak I think, but no serious wounds. Demon attacked him after you… You were gone and I think that Sebastian thought he killed him.”_

_Wait._

_“If no one has spoken to him.” Alan felt cold. “He must think, does he think I’m dead?”_

_He watched the horror dawn on Ronald’s face and with a spurt of energy he managed to sit up properly and throw back the white sheets._

_“He thinks he killed me.”_

 

“Humphries.” William put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him up gently, Eric helping. “You should return to the infirmary.”

“When do I get to come back?”

“We can’t…” Will hedged as Alan’s hands tightened on Eric’s arm.

“Then I’m not leaving.”

“Al.” The scotsman brushed messy bangs from his friend’s forehead and cupped his head gently. “Ye need medical attention. I’ll be braw. Go wi' Spears an' git some rest.”

Alan trembled, pushing into his chest. “Don’t leave.” His voice was frail and guilt for his earlier thoughts bowled Eric over; how could he even consider death now, with Alan shaking against him? He was crying, oh Death, he was crying because of him.

“Alan, look at me.” Eric pressed his forehead to his friend’s. “Ah will dae what Ah can, but nae matter what happens, this isn’t yer fault. Please, take care ay yerself.”

Alan nodded, coughing back his tears as Eric continued to run his hands through his hair. The scotsman looked up at William, soundlessly pleading with him, and the other man sighed heavily as he moved to the doorway. He’d give them a few minutes.

~*~

Grell stretched out as he watched Ronald pacing the hallway outside of the courtrooms and gave a sigh. “Ronnie, sit down already, there’s nothing more we can do.” Both Reapers had given their testimonies and were waiting on William as the supervisor gave his personal take on the events. “Just relax.”

“Senior Slingby might die.” Ronald’s pacing increased. “And if that happens Alan’s going to be crushed.”

“...” Grell wasn’t sure he liked these new feelings. Caring about people was exhausting. “Look, there’s nothing we can do about it now. It’s out of our hands, short of breaking the man out of prison.

...And that’s _not_ a suggestion.”

William stepped out from the room, wiping his glasses off with a small handkerchief. “It’s up to the Board now.”

Ronald groaned, flopping into a chair. Watching the fidgety blonde, Grell stood and moved to lean next to his friend. “How’d it go?”

“I’m unsure.” Will admitted. “There are good arguments for both sides, it could swing either way.”

“So it’s up to Eric’s testimony.” Ronald sighed.

Will was suddenly very glad that he’d allowed Alan to visit the Scotsman; Eric would never have taken this seriously without his concern.

“Who’s that?” Grell nodded toward the courtroom door, frowning. A woman was leaning against the wall, a large file of papers in her arms and looking at her watch impatiently. She wasn’t dressed like the women in receptions, but her heels and pencil skirt made it obvious she didn't go out in the field. After a moment the door opened and a man poked his head out, beckoning her in. Will blinked and straightened. “She’s with the Psychological Department.”

“The what?” Ronald scratched his head.

“The--Knox, are you familiar with Freudian theory?”

“Um… The dream guy?”

William pushed his glasses up his nose. “Indeed. They introduced the department shortly after Sutcliff’s rampage.” He ignored the red-head’s pout. “They’ll be wanting a psychological profile on Eric… In order to see if he’s safe to release.”

“Great, he’s in the hands of quacks.” Grell sighed. “Good luck.”

Ronald perked up. “But, doesn’t that mean that they don’t totally blame him? I mean, that’s what happened with you, right Senior? If they think he wasn’t in his right mind they won’t punish him too bad. Right?” He leaned into Grell’s face, eyes wide. “Right?”

The redhead winced, pulling back slightly. “Err, I suppose so. Ease up a little Ronnie.”

“How’s it goin’?” Thomson limped over, coat fluttering gently as he moved. After an infection had worsened  his leg injury and stopped the Reaper from being able to go out into the field, he’d been reassigned to the Forensics department. At first the boisterous man had chafed at the restrictions but now he was excelling at the work; he’d always been a smart man. William stood to shake his hand and offered him his seat. “No news yet.”

“Damn.” Thomson sat down slowly. “How’s Humphries holdin’ up?”

“Not well. How have things been in the department?”

Thomson pursed his lips and sighed. “Well, we've looked o’er their scythes an' the souls are, well, they're gone. Which ah dunno know if that's a good thing or a bad thing. Ah mean, Eric reaped 99,999 souls. An' they're just... gone.”

“So, the last soul...” Ronald asked quietly.

“Must hev been Alan. Didn’t see that’un comin.”

William resisted rubbing at his nose again, letting out a deep breath. This was interesting but not helpful at the moment.

Inside of the large hall, Eric slumped in his chair and tried to hide his exhaustion. They’d been at it for hours, Eric having to listen to each argument for and against him, and it was draining. However, William’s testimony had been… Enlightening. He now knew without a doubt that the other man meant it when he’d said that he would support him; William, rule-abiding-hands-off-socially-awkward William, had openly campaigned for him in front of the Board. He looked to these men like the ultimate word and he’d been willing to stick his neck out for Eric.

Who’d have thought.

He was vaguely aware of the conversation going on, he’d barely given the woman who entered a spare glance, but his head was feeling fuzzy and everything felt a long ways off.

“Mister Slingby.”

At the sound of the Board head’s voice, he managed to focus enough to look up. The stately man stared down at the Reaper over the top of his pic-nez and steepled his fingers. “If released into the field, would you ever again kill a human not listed for reaping?”

“No.”

The man raised an eyebrow. “Even given similar circustan-”

“No.” Eric inwardly started measuring his breathing, trying to control himself. “Ah know 'at Ah made a mistake. Ah know 'at Ah thought Ah was doin' th' right thing, Ah did it... Ah did it for someone who blames himself for everythin'. Who Ah should have been there for but instead took it on m’self tae play god. An' no, Ah would ne'er make those mistakes again.”

There was a heavy silence after his words broken finally by one of the Board members shifting in his seat. “Your recommendation, Doctor Holiday?”

“I believe him.”

Eric twisted in his seat and caught sight of the woman standing by the door. She was dressed in the usual black and white, her skirt and jacket well pressed, and her dark hair was pulled back in a severe bun. She stared levelly at him from behind her cat-eyes glasses and continued, “I submit that he should be incarcerated until his mental state is leveled. I think that rehabilitation is the best course. His record speaks for itself and losing his services would be a waste.”

“...We will debate on this further.”

Dr. Holiday nodded politely. “With respect, I’ve put together his file and would like to submit it.”

“Agreed.”

Once she had handed it off, she moved to resume her place in the back of the courtroom. Her path took her past Eric and he eyed her more curiously this time; she looked back and Eric had the distinct feeling of being a hunk of meat or piece of clothing in a shop window. Holiday didn’t say a word, just walked away.

“Mister Slingby.”

Eric turned to look at the board so fast he could hear the crick in his neck. The dour man at the group’s head closed the file primly and nodded to one of the guards at the door. “Please ask Mr. Spears to come in.”

As soon as William arrived they continued. “This has been an unheard of breach of conduct. By rights worthy of expulsion and death. However, this also means that there is no precedent to look to when choosing a sentence. Under the circumstances, and due to the testimonies and your long record of service, it has been decided that you will be placed in isolation and under observation.”

Eric gaped at the man, more confused than relieved, but William actually made a tiny smile at the announcement.

“You will remain there until Doctor Holiday decides you are fit to be brought back into our fold and will then enter a probationary period before being reinstated. Are there any objections to this?”

“No, sir.” William said quickly. Eric nodded mutely in agreement, still reeling. From her spot in the back Holiday cocked an eyebrow.

“No, sir.”

“Then, this hearing is concluded.”

William leaned over the edge of the box where Eric was seated. “They’ll be taking you straight to your cell. Is there anything I can tell Humphries for you?”

“Yes.” Eric smiled. “Tell him 'at I'll make this up tae him one day. An' tell him tae take care ay himself. You'll all watch after him, won’t ye?”

“We will.” William agreed quietly. “For what it’s worth, I am glad about the decision they’ve made.”

“Aye, me too.” Eric laughed, a weight lifting from his shoulders. He still had a long ways to go before the guilt left him completely, if it ever did, but now he would have the chance to make it right.

He’d been given a second chance and he would not waste it.

Across the room, Doctor Holiday watched them and wrote down a single line in her notepad with a neat and steady hand.

  
**This will be fascinating.**


	3. Day One

**_People find meaning and redemption in the most unusual human connections.  
~Khaled Hosseini_ **

* * *

 

Ronald tipped his head back, trying to balance a pencil on his nose and staring at it with crossed eyes, a sliver of pink showing from where the tip of his tongue stuck out between his lips in concentration. He’d been in the hospital room for hours, waiting by Alan’s bedside, and was determined not to allow the older man to wake up on his own. Several nurses were peering around the door of the private room, giggling as they watched the attractive, friendly young man amuse himself. If he’d known that women were watching the childish display his face would have reddened and he would most likely have flustered and tried to act smooth but in supposed solitude he allowed himself to indulge in childish pleasures. 

From her desk in the main room of the infirmary, Rosie rolled her eyes at their antics. So often it seemed like she was the only thing keeping this department running, but that may have been her bewilderment at the antics of young people talking. Turning back to her paperwork, she called out loudly, “Mr. Knox, can I get you anything while you wait?”

Jolting at the noise, Ronald scrambled to catch the pencil before it clattered to the floor, and the girls scurried off to hide. “Ah, no, thank you ma’am!”

Chuckling, she stood up and entered the room to check on her patient. Alan had overexerted himself with his unscheduled discharge and was sleeping the deep sleep of the exhausted and heavily medicated. Checking for fever, Rosie nodded to herself in relief. “He’s looking a lot better. He should be able to get out of here soon enough, God willing.”

Ronald nodded, leaning back in his chair and rolling the pencil between his hands. Rosie was about to chide him to get his feet back on the floor when a flash of pale pink distracted her. “Mr. Knox, did you bring those?”

Blushing as he side-eyed the peonies in the window-sill, Ronald shrugged and nodded to a book lying on a table. “I just… I thought that maybe he’d appreciate it. It was stupid.”

“It was lovely.” Rosie said firmly, smoothing back Alan’s bangs and straightening up. “I’ll get you some tea.”

“Thanks, ma’am.”

She stopped to look at the book, entitled ‘Floriography’, and opened to the bookmarked page on peonies, smiling at the meaning neatly labeled beneath a lovely painting of the vibrant flower: healing. 

Oh yes, she liked young Mr. Knox.

Stretching, Ronald sighed. “I admit, it’s not as boring a topic as I thought it would be. Still don’t see how Alan can spend so much time reading about flowers.”

“Not all of us can amuse ourselves ceaselessly with women and wine, Knox.” Alan blinked wearily, trying to sit up as Rosie hurried to his side, checking his temperature. 

Ronald laughed.  “Fair enough, senior, fair enough.”

“Alan, please.” The older man snorted, rubbing at his eyes with a pale hand. “I think that we’ve reached the point of ignoring social niceties.”

“Your fever’s down.” Rosie handed him his glasses. “I’ll make you something to drink. Some ginger tea, and I’ll see if we can rustle up some food.”

“Hey, hey.” Alan pulled her back to the bed, raising her hand to his lips. “Thank you for everything.” 

Rosie smiled down at him fondly. “You, young man, need to spend a lot less time here.” 

Sitting in contented silence for a while, Alan sank into a daze; the warm air in the small room was freshened by the open window and the sunlight that fell onto the bed kept the linen blankets just the right temperature. He didn’t want to break the lull; selfishly Alan clung to the peaceful feeling and wished he could ignore everything for just a while. 

“He’s fine, by the way.”

Ronald watched the older man’s shoulders relax further and the tension in his face evaporate. It had been worth the waiting to make sure that Alan’s fears were put to rest as soon as possible. “He’s been put in solitary confinement and death’s been taken off the table as a punishment so…”

“Good.” Alan took a shaky breath. “I’m glad.”

Fidgeting slightly, Ronald wondered what to say next. He liked Alan, always had, but they weren’t terribly alike. He’d never had much of a reason to spend a lot of time with him and now that they were he didn’t know what to talk about. Who knew that it could be so tricky to connect with someone.

Attempting to do anything in order to break the silence, Ronald leaned back in his chair. “So, interested in the office gossip?”

Alan cocked an eyebrow.

Back in said office, William rubbed the back of his neck and powered through the cramps in his neck and hands. Who knew one of your subordinates being put under psychological study generated so much paperwork? 

No courtesy knock heralded Grell’s entrance, but that was nothing new. The steaming cup of tea in his hand was a pleasant surprise however, and the dark haired man forwent any reprimands in his relief. Placing the cup on one of the few empty places on William’s desk, Grell moved to stand behind him and began to knead his hands into the knots of tension on his upper back. 

“It seems even you have your limit.”

William bit back a groan at the sensation. “This is nothing compared to the paperwork I was required to do after your stunt.” 

“Ouch.” Grell stepped back once satisfied with the position of William’s shoulders and looked out the narrow window at the cloudy sky hanging like a gray shroud. “Fair enough. Damn, and it was so lovely out before. This sort of weather is so… melancholy.” 

“I’ll take your word for it.” Will said wryly over his tea. “Well, out with it, you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t want something.”

“I resent that accusation, although at the moment it is true enough.” Grell fell gracefully into the chair across the desk. “I wanted to volunteer to take Ronnie’s reaps for the day so he can stay with Alan.”

“You’re volunteering for extra work?” William arched an eyebrow over the teacup. “Should I be concerned?”

“Very funny. I’m feeling a bit restless, I’d like to get out there.” Grell shrugged. “And it’s hard to deny Ronnie anything.”

William snorted and the red haired man glared at him. “Honestly, Will, he shouldn’t have been involved in all of this at all. Do you understand how much it’s bothered him?”

“He’s not a child.” William argued. “And none of us have dealt with this well, so it’s not as if he’s alone in that.”

Grell’s face softened. “Alright, I agree. But, I’d still like to take his reaps, Alan woke up and Ronnie doesn’t want him to be alone.”

“Very well.”

Grell smiled happily and took the folders, eagerly flipping through them and formulating a plan of attack.

Ignoring the redhead, William rubbed at the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath as the words in front of him blurred. “Damn…”

“Will.” Once he’d finally looked up, Grell fixed him with a firm stare. “You need to get some rest. You’re not made of stone.” 

Will was prepared to argue the point when he looked back at the papers littering his desk and thought about having to turn them into the board once he was done and it all seemed just a little too difficult. It was frustrating to admit that his shell had been cracked but it was true. Will took a long breath and pushed away from the desk.

“Actually, would you mind some company? You’ll need assistance to complete your reaps and Knox’s before the day’s out.”

Grell’s smile was startlingly honest before it turned wry. “Are you sure you’re not too rusty for a reap?”

“It’s not been that long.” William snorted. “And there’s no reason that the only times I should get to go out be when we’re busy.”

Opening the heavy wooden door and making a sweeping bow, Grell hid his excitement. “Well then, show me how it’s done.”

~*~

Eric was bored. It shouldn’t have been at the top of his ‘list of serious issues at the moment’, but there wasn’t much else to distract him and the fact of the matter was that he was damned well bored out of his skull. His cell was perfectly square, white walls and floor, with one wall made of bars that gleamed dimly. The hallway outside it was narrow, the same sterile white color, and stretched on for so long that he couldn’t see the ends. A single window let in natural light but it was high enough that he couldn’t see out of it and the bars across it cast shadows on the floor that crossed those of his wall. His bed was a simple palette with cotton sheets but shockingly not the worst bed he’d ever had. At least things were somewhat comfortable, if not completely boring.

Smacking his head against the wall periodically, he stared ahead and wished for a book or anything to pass the time. If this was meant to help him regain his sanity it was a poorly planned endeavour. He was more likely to go completely insane at this rate-- 

Tense as Eric was, he immediately heard the noises. At first he wasn’t sure what they were but it clicked soon enough and he realized that someone was walking toward him. Specifically a woman, those were heels so either a female reaper or Grell.  _ Please let it not be Grell… _

It wasn’t.

Doctor Holiday was tall, rather thin and her dark brown hair was pulled neatly in a bun at the top of her neck. She held her files loosely at her side and eyed him curiously before kicking off her shoes, placing her files on the floor and settling down, tucking her skirt underneath her knees. “I suppose I should have brought my own chair. Something to remember in the future.”

Eric eyed her critically; in another situation he most likely would have been all over her, she was pretty enough. For the moment, all he felt was irritation and weariness. 

“I should introduce myself.” She continued. “My name is Doctor Loni Holiday. Please, tell me about yourself.”

Eric laughed. “Ye know well enough who Ah am.”

“That’s not what I asked, Eric.” Holiday smiled patiently. “I know your name and all the other ‘important’ things in your file. I want to get to know _ you _ .”

“Nae, Ah really think ye don’t.”

Unperturbed, she continued. “Let’s start with something simple. I know you came from Edinburgh, when did you start holding back your accent?”

“Wha--” Eric stared at her. “Why would ye ask somethin’ so…”

“I just think that a decision like that takes some consideration,” Holiday smiled at his confusion. “I wanted to know your motivation.”

“ Ah don’t ‘hink ye can.” He muttered belligerently. 

“Go mbeadh tú a bheith ionadh.”

He startled at that and she laughed, slipping out of her native dialect. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist. I’m originally from Cork but I came to England to study under James Ward. He’s been trying to set up a section at Cambridge for the science of psychology but as far as I’m aware, they’ve not listened to him. He’s a very open minded man, didn’t mind my sex or the odd hours I had to keep--at the time I was in the nursing department as well while I worked to get into--but this isn’t about me, now is it?” 

“No, wait.” Eric rested back against the wall, both interested in her response and desperate to avoid scrutiny. “Why move to England? Wasn’t there a position in Ireland?”

“I’m afraid this department is still a little revolutionary. I asked for the transfer so I could be with people who share my views. If this hadn’t worked out, I would mostly likely have ended up in Germany or America.” Holiday smiled ruefully. “I’ve worked hard to sound like I belong here, it’s hard enough to be taken seriously as a woman without sounding like a foreigner.” 

“...It was the same for me.” Eric watched a ray of sunlight slowly moving up the wall from his barred window. “Nae, Ah mean, not all of it obviously. But Ah have a hard enough time fittin’ in without havin’ tae repeat myself constantly. Sae Alan helped me improve mah dialect.”

Holiday smiled at that, nodding and making a quick note on her pad,  **Less than five minutes in and he’s already mentioned Humphries.** Eric eyed her sharply and she sighed, raising her hands in a placating manner. “I have to take notes, Eric. The more cooperative you are the sooner I can get you out of here.”

Eric grumbled under his breath, rubbing at his face in exasperation. Pointedly keeping her face neutral, Holiday continued to write,  **Subject is hostile and uncooperative, markedly different than the image that others have given me. Most describe him as charming, pleasant and likable, if not a little standoffish. He does seem to have multiple faces he shows people.**

“Is this the first time you’ve gotten in trouble?” 

Like a switch had been flipped, Eric suddenly began to laugh; his laugh was deep and attractive, it was easy to see him winning people over with a voice like that. “At this level mebbe. But nae, I’ve hardly been a golden child.”

**Admits to his poor choices, doesn’t immediately claim that he’s been wronged.**

“Could you tell me more about these problems?”

It was obvious that he didn’t want to share, but after a long beat of silence, Eric’s boredom won out. “Small things for th' most part. Disagreements, late paperwork, occasionally a fight ‘r two…”

**Minor offences for the most part. Why the dramatic shift?**

“Any of these happen here?” Holiday flipped open her file, scanning something. “Or was it--”

“Nae. In Scotland. Was mostly mah friends' faults.” 

“I’m sure.” She laughed.

“Don’t believe me?” Eric grinned widely and leaned back. “Once mah friends an' Ah went drinkin' after a long reap. Ah was merely tryin' tae enjoy mah drink an' some... charmin' company. But mah mukker Aidan decided 'at it wouldn’t be a night until he'd started a full on brawl.”

Holiday smiled. “I imagine your superiors weren’t pleased.”

“Hell nae. Ah had tae stand wi' him. All ay us or none.”

She laughed, nodding in understanding as he went back to staring at the wall, a fond look in his eyes. Holiday was pleased at the story, both for the fact that he’d taken the initiative to tell it and the loyalty displayed in it. And she hoped that maybe she could push a little farther. “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?” Eric closed his eyes and thumped his head back against the wall in irritation; he hadn’t meant to respond to her questions. Dammit, now she would expect more answers.

“What you said in court. That you’d never do it again. Did you mean that?”

“Of course.” Eric laughed. “I've got nae reason tae. An'...” He trailed off and looked away again, a spasm of pain leaking out before he managed to hide it. Holiday cocked her head to the side. 

**He has put thought into this, it wasn’t an impulse. He also shows signs of remorse, but whether that’s due to genuine regret or the fact he was caught remains to be seen.**

“You have an impressive record.” She tapped the file absently. “One could argue you’re one of the best in your department.”

Eric snorted at that. “Ah may be good, but it's naethin'. Lord knows Spears would prefer that Ah was quicker wi' mah paperwork.” 

“But you are good.”

“Ah’m replaceable.” 

**Healthy lack of narcissism, I don’t know if he might have other issues that need addressing in that area but he seems open to discussion of his own flaws.**

A strangled laugh made her look up from her notes, in time to catch the pain that spasmed over Eric’s face. He rubbed at his face and laughed bitterly. “Alan used tae tell me 'at he was lucky tae have a mentor wi' such a big reputation. Ah nearly laughed in his face th' first time. Over time it just…”

“Was a lot of responsibility?” Holiday asked gently. “A lot of pressure?”

“He was a much better Reaper than me. Felt like Ah had tae try tae live up tae th' image he had ay me.” 

**He does worry about what people think of him, but perhaps selectively. He seems to need to respect the people in order to consider their point of view. I will guess that he was an excellent mentor as well. He seems to have taken his role seriously. Something to discuss with his superior.**

“You wanted him to be right.” 

Her words made him flinch and Eric looked away again, the empty look back in his eyes. 

**He killed thousands of humans but the idea of letting down this one Reaper is nearly impossible for him to consider. I can’t tell if he desires to help others or if this is an outlier.**

“You nearly got away with all of this.” Holiday leaned against the bars. “You know that, right? No one would have known.”

The room was getting chilled, that was the only reason Eric shivered as he sat with the doctor. Looking up with haunted eyes, he blinked. “Ah wish no one had.”

“So you wouldn’t have been arrested?”

“So he wouldn’t know.” Eric turned his back to her with a note of finality, having had his fill of this conversation. Holiday could see that, and decided he’d given her more than enough for their first day. “I’ll return tomorrow, Eric. Is there anything I could bring you?” When he ignored her, she finished her notes and stood up, slipping on her heels again and smoothing her hair. “Thank you for your time.”

“Doc.”

She turned, unable to see him from where she’d walked but able to hear his voice in the stillness. “Find out how Alan’s daein'?” 

She smiled. “Of course. Rest well, Eric.”

Once she had reached her small cubby-hole of an office, Holiday spread her notes out on her desk, taking a step back and crossing her arms. She sighed, biting her nail and leaning over her desk as she read back her notes; only looking up at a knock at the door and realizing with a jolt that she’d been in thought for almost an hour. “Hullo, Othello.” 

The forensics Reaper grinned at her, pushing up his glasses with one hand and handing over a small file. “Here’s the final report for Slingby. And Humphries as well. How’d the first day go?”

“It was enlightening.” She smiled back.

Othello chuckled. “I bet. I like Slingby, he’s funny. Would you like a lemon drop?”

“No. Thank you.” She shook her head in amusement.

“Suit yerself.” Popping the candy into his own mouth, he cocked his head to the side. “So what do you think? ‘S he insane?”

“Othello…” Holiday rolled her eyes and huffed. “ First of all, that’s completely inappropriate and I cannot talk about my patients like that. Secondly, it’s been one session. I don’t ‘know’ anything yet.”

The scientist hummed noncommittally as he watched her. “You coming out for drinks with us tonight? It’s going to be fun.”

“I doubt I’ll make it.” Holiday said frostily, turning back to her notes. “Was there anything else?”

Hearing it for the dismissal it was, he merely waved at her and turned to go. 

Holiday hesitated and put away the files, focusing more on her notes and beginning to understand some things about her patient, as well as an important first step she had yet to take.

 

**Less than five minutes in and he’s already mentioned Humphries.**

**Subject is hostile and uncooperative, markedly different than the image that others have given me. Most describe him as charming, pleasant and likable, if not a little standoffish. He does seem to have multiple faces he shows people.**

**Admits to his poor choices, doesn’t immediately claim that he’s been wronged. Does this mean that he understands what he did wrong, or just that he knows that others consider his actions to be wrong?**

**Minor offences for the most part. Why the dramatic shift? There’s a marked difference between minor arguments and the unsanctioned killing of so many humans.**

**He has put thought into this, it wasn’t an impulse. He also shows signs of remorse, but whether that’s due to genuine regret or the fact he was caught remains to be seen. What does seem obvious is that he does regret that Humphries is aware of what happened.**

**Healthy lack of narcissism, I don’t know if he might have other issues that need addressing in that area but he seems open to discussion of his own flaws. The fact that he’s engaging me on this topic would indicate a lack of interest in it. He doesn’t seem to care if I know. I’m not sure if it’s a lack of self-interest or if he’s beginning to relax.**

**He does worry about what people think of him, but perhaps selectively. He seems to need to respect the people in order to consider their point of view. I will guess that he was an excellent mentor as well. He seems to have taken his role seriously.**

**What is it about Humphries that affects him so deeply?**

**He killed thousands of humans but the idea of letting down this one Reaper is nearly impossible for him to consider. I can’t tell if he desires to help others or if this is an outlier.**

**He has no hesitations about lying to get what he wants but at the same time he cares for certain people enough to commit these crimes.**

 

**Overall, my opinion is that he is sane. There seems to be no signs of psychopathy, and I still think that he is not going to be a threat in the future. He refused to open up properly but I think I can win him over and get enough from him to please the Board and have a next step planned out.**

 

**I need to meet Humphries.**

~*~

“Last one.” Grell smiled to himself as he finished looking over a soul strip and clapped his ledger closed. “And in record time, we make a great team.”

William decided to give him that one and merely scanned the street thoughtfully. He put away his scythe, hesitated, then turned to Grell. “There’s a cafe just down the street. Tea?” 

Grell stared, brain short circuiting for a moment. “Are you asking me on a date?!!”

As the redheaded reaper spun in circles spouting nonsensical poetry, William began to walk away. “Forget I asked.”

Arm slipping into his, Grell fell into step alongside him and smiled toothily. “Alright, I can take a hint. A friendly tea is something I can live with. You’re being suspiciously not like you, taking breaks, going for tea…”

William sighed, avoiding eye contact. He was perhaps being more easy going than usual; certainly an outing like this was not a usual occurrence. He hesitated, loath to give Grell any ammunition, but in the end deciding to come clean. “I’m angry.”

Grell watched him carefully. William was a quiet steamer, a person prone to irritation and exasperation; his hatred of demons came close to actual fits of anger but it was rare for him to just admit to the emotion. As they walked down the street, unnoticed by the busy humans going about their lives, Grell hesitantly reached over and squeezed his arm. “At who?”

“Take your pick. Slingby, Humphries, our superiors…”

“Yourself?” Grell guessed, sighing when it seemed like he’d hit it on the head. “Will… You did your job.”

“I shouldn’t be this upset.” William fidgeted with his glasses, gritting his teeth. “I, as you said, did my job. Er-Slingby was grossly out of line and I attempted to put an end to his actions according to protocol. I don’t know why it’s upset me so much.”

“Maybe because you never considered what someone’s motivations might be?” Grell stopped them underneath the awning of the little cafe. “It’s not like he was disregarding the rules for no reason. He was trying to help someone. There’s a-a difference.” 

“Perhaps.” William sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“No. No, for once I am completely right and you are going to admit it.” Grell grinned widely. “Will, it’s alright to like your co workers.” 

With a sigh, the other man opened the door, “Perhaps. I suppose that I’ve never had the opportunity to experience the sensation before.” 

“Ass.”


End file.
